


Late Nights in the Therapist's Room

by Mushaloons



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Could be sexual in later chapters..heheh, F/M, I typed in an and all I got was anal sex stuff (geez all I wanted was for angst to pop up), I'm back, Light Angst, Reconciliation, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:51:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushaloons/pseuds/Mushaloons
Summary: Three years after Zarkon was defeated. Endless rounds of therapy. This is one of them.





	1. Oh fuck

 

 

 

 

 

Pidge couldn’t remember the last time she slept.

 

Maybe it was the day before she found out the Kerberos crew was declared missing in action, or the day she found out her dog was having puppies. Or possibly the last normal Christmas the Holts ever had. Whatever it was, those days seemed like forever ago compared to now. Now she was fighting day after day for the trillions of beings in the universe, not to mention her own life. She gave up finding her brother and father to protect the innocent, while enduring a scolding from a boy she barely knew. Only for that boy to eventually leave Voltron too. 

 

She slammed her head against the wall. How could she be so stupid? Of course he was going to leave. Voltron wasn’t enough for his perfect ass. And neither was she. She could never be the perfect girl. She was small, and skinny, with no curves and no chest, and with only an advanced knowledge in science and math as her talent, she’d probably only attract attention for being the weird nerd that nobody ever sat with at lunch. Just like in middle school. And in elementary. Even in frigging preschool she got rejected. 

 

The door nearby swung open, making her flinch. “Ms. Holt?” 

 

Pidge looked up. “Yes?” She squeaked.

 

The woman seemed to show no attention to her obvious freak out and instead just scrawled something on her notepad. “Dr. Ortega will see you now.” 

 

Right. This was the world she lived in now. Just therapy and college and the occasional family gathering. No more Voltron, no more Zarkon, no more Garrison. _No more friends._  

 

She pushed the last thought from her head and made her way down the hall. 

* * *

Keith was having a nervous breakdown.

I mean, if that's what you want to call it. Clothes were strewn everywhere, pizza boxes randomly everywhere, and what seems to be a rat. Eating cheese-oh, never mind, he's chewing on his boxers.

It'd been three months since he was declared dead from the Blade. A decision he considered to be the best for everyone. At least, he hoped so. Since then, he's moved back to Earth, pulled a few strings and got a job at Annie Daniels' Pizzeria. It wasn't much, but it covered everything. And really, hiding on Earth with a shitty job and an even shitter apartment was better than being deployed into fighting again.

He also went to therapy. Starting today. Thanks to his freaking temper he had almost gotten arrested for punching a customer that insulted his haircut. So basically, job and therapy, or be homeless. 

Keith's eyes drifted back to the mirror. His hair was still sticking up in the back, despite constant brushing. And the sweatshirt and jeans were the only clean clothes he had. He sighed and opened the door. _Might as well get it over with_. 

* * *

 

The room was white, and quiet. A single globe was the only decoration, more like what she considered a decoration, on Dr. Ortega's desk. Everything else looked almost like an asylum and those police questioning rooms mashed up in one. She stayed silent though, as Dr. Ortega scanned through her file. 

"So, Katie, I hear you were with Dr. Quentin." 

"Yeah."

"Was he nice? Before he quit?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

Dr. Ortega sighed. Why must they give her the harder people?

Just then the door swung open, and the same woman from before peered in. She looked miffed. "Excuse me, but this is the joint therapy room, isn't it?"

 _Joint therapy?_ Pidge whipped her head around. "Did you just say 'joint therapy'?"

The woman looked at her, sour faced. "Why yes, little girl. In fact, this boy rambles about Ultron or whatever robot toys you kids like today." She turned on her heel and walked off. 

Dr. Ortega smiled at whoever was at the door. "Nice to meet you, um-"

"Keith."

Pidge froze, just as a certain former paladin (and Blade) entered the room. 

"Well, Keith, please have a seat."

_1 beat._

_2 beats._

_3 footsteps._

An outstretched hand appear in front of her. “Uh, hi, I’m...” She turned to look at him. Making him freeze almost as rigid as her.

”....Keith.”


	2. Keith is creepy as fuck (Chapter 2 Part 1 cause Im

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 Part 2 because I'm a lazy ass and I refuse to write the whole damn thing in one night. 
> 
> Payphone talk

“Dude seriously?” Lance had practically screamed into her ear, a little  _too_ excited. She could already picture him texting Hunk about it, probably with 15 emojis and stuff. “The mullet’s still alive?”

Pidge rolled her eyes, her fingers twisting the phone cord a little harder. “Yes Lance,” she muttered dryly. “Your boyfriend is alive.”

”Very funny Pidge. But really though, he’s got a pulse?” He asked.

“Do you seriously think I’d have a therapy session with a corpse?” 

The older boy snorted on the other end. "Judging by you? Maybe." A pause. "Did you say hi?"

She scoffed. "Seriously? To him? The same guy who left us all just for some stupid legacy shit? No thanks, Lance. I'm not the forgiving type, you know that. And definitely not to him."

"Harsh much?"

"Is it harsh or is it pent up anger?"

"Chill, he's probably feeling kind of guilty."

"Maybe...but can I help feeling like I want to hurt him? Never mind, don't answer that. I know you're busy."

"It's fine."

"I'll call you later?"

"Alright then, Pidgey. Allura's coming to visit on Monday. Dress nice. Orders from Shiro. And Luis wants you to come over again. He misses you."

"Tell him I said hi. See you later, beanpole."

"Bye! Also tell Keith he's an ass."

"M'kay."

Pidge hung up, only to be greeted by a large nose on the other end. She screamed, causing an unsuspecting elderly couple to stumble back. She grabbed the payphone for dear life. "Jesus, Keith!" She hissed. "How long have you been standing there?"

He shrugged. "Enough to hear all the shit about me."

"So basically the whole conversation."

"I guess so, why?" Keith stepped closer.

....at least, she thought it was Keith. With shorter hair. And bigger eyebags. 

"Why are you even here?" 

"Can't a guy come back to his home?"

She slammed the phone back into it's holding cell. "Last time I checked, your home  _wasn't_ with us. It was with the Blade, remember?" 

"Last time I checked, you didn't own this whole Earth." 

She didn't bother arguing with him. Just walked away. Keith followed. "Pidge I'm sorry!" When she didn't turn around, he tried again. "Pidge..." She stopped walking. "Please talk to me." He tapped her shoulder, making her whole body go rigid. "Please Pidge..." Keith tried poking her again when a blue and white gloved hand came out and smacked him across the face. Ripples of pain shot through his left cheek, making him recoil. 

Standing above him was Pidge. Her fists were clenched up in small balls. He braced himself for the next hit when she spoke.

"What do you not get in leaving me ALONE?" Her voice was hoarse and tired, with the faintest trace of anger and...hurt?

Then she was gone, leaving a pained Keith lying on the sidewalk and more than twenty bystanders recording the whole thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why not Part 1? Because Part 1 is brewing somewhere and I am not willing to put things in order at 10:52 PM.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from my fanfic grave. It was weird. There were a lot of ideas, including a three way involving our president. (Let's just say my friends are very questionable.) Well, I hope you like this fic.


End file.
